Do I Twist, Do I Fold?
by Telperion
Summary: An alternate version of that phone conversation.  DoctorMaster slash.


Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Torchwood belong to the BBC and Russell T. Davies. They are not mine, nor will they ever be.

Spoilers: 'The Sound of Drums'

Do I Twist, Do I Fold?

"I'm here."

"Doctor…"

"Master."

"I like it when you use my name."

Silence.

"Oh, now, come on. Don't tell me that the brave, moralistic, holier-than-thou Doctor is afraid to remember his past misdemeanours? Because I remember them all too well…"

"We're not talking about this now."

"But when else should we talk about it? Perhaps you'd like to come round for tea, and we can reminisce about the old days?"

More silence.

"Come, Doctor. Doesn't a tiny part of you – just the smallest part – wish you could go back to those times? When you and I were friends, not enemies?"

"We have never been friends. Competitors, yes. Equals, maybe. Enemies, definitely. But never friends. I see that now."

A smile. "Well, Doctor, you know what they say about keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer? I'd say that definitely applies to you and I."

"I said, we're not talking about…"

"And I say we are! What's the matter, Doctor? Are you really that afraid? Afraid to remember what we did? Afraid to remember what I taught you? Afraid to…"

"You taught me nothing!"

"Oh, on the contrary, Doctor. I taught you many, many things. Things that, as I recall, you didn't complain about at the time. You were so naïve, Doctor. So young, so idealistic. So _pure_. When you looked into the Schism, you saw danger, something to be scared of. When I looked, I saw potential, something to be used. I tried to teach you about that potential. I tried to teach you about the potential for so many things. And when I was done you weren't quite so pure any more."

"No, I wasn't." An unexpected agreement. "But I don't call it teaching. I call it _tainting_. The only thing you ever taught me was that _you_ don't belong in this universe. I knew it then, and I know it now."

A hiss of anger. "Well, why don't you do it then, Doctor? Why don't you wipe me from the face of this tiny, insignificant universe?"

"I…can't."

"And why is that, Doctor?"

"Because you and I are the only ones left. And because I'm tired of being alone."

"Alone?"

"Gallifrey is gone."

A sharp intake of breath. "How can Gallifrey be gone?"

"It burnt."

"And the Time Lords?"

"Dead. And the Daleks. More or less. And all because of me."

"So we really are the only ones left." A smile behind the words. "What did it feel like, though? Two almighty civilisations burning. Tell me, how did that feel?"

"Stop it!"

"You must have been like God." The voice caresses the words, making them almost…

"Stop it! Just stop it! I have never felt less like a god in my life." A pause, and then a quieter tone. "I've been alone ever since. But not any more. Don't you see? All we've got is each other."

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Don't play games! We need each other."

"Wrong! You might need me, but I don't need you. I have never needed you!"

Silence again.

"Does that hurt, Doctor? Does it hurt to be rejected by the only person who can possibly understand who you are? _What_ you are?"

"Yes, it hurts. But unlike you, I understand what that means."

"And what does it mean?"

"It means that I can wipe you from the face of this tiny, insignificant universe. Which, by the way, is neither as tiny nor insignificant as you think."

"Oh, how very noble! How very righteous! How very _human_! Standing up for what you believe in. I'm touched. But, unfortunately, wiping me from the universe may not be enough."

"Why do you say that?"

"The drumming. Can't you hear it? I thought it would stop, but it never does. Never, ever stops. Inside my head. The drumming, Doctor. The constant…drumming. Something is coming, Doctor…"

"What have you done? What's happening? _What have you done_?"

"And you can tell handsome Jack and oh-so-pretty Martha…"

"You leave them out of this!"

"You can tell them that they should watch out for themselves. Because they really don't know who they're associating with. I could tell them things about you that would make their heads spin."

"Don't you dare."

"Imagine the disappointment in Martha's eyes. Imagine the betrayal in Jack's. Imagine if I told them about you and I…"

"Stop it!"

"Oh, don't worry, Doctor. I won't tell them…yet."

A grim tone. "You won't have the chance. I will find you."

"Well, you'd better hurry up, Doctor. Because here come…the drums."

Click. A dial tone.


End file.
